


Wave your white flag

by BlueberryPaincake



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: F/M, Fluff in the first half, Jealousy, Kiyo wants to make her baby, No Angst, Possessive Behavior, Power Dynamics, Underage Drinking, coerced drinking, kirumom gets litty, lil bit of, miss me with that sadness, no getting jiggy, only to realize she holds too much power
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24948208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueberryPaincake/pseuds/BlueberryPaincake
Summary: It's a fun time tricking your usually mature and sophisticated significant other into getting drunk. Until they get mad about it.Credits to @Deltanox (they write for this ship too ^-^) for helping me edit this and adding some really cute/memorable moments to the story!
Relationships: Shinguji Korekiyo/Tojo Kirumi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

That girl. Kirumi stared across the room as she busied her hands with picking up the empty soda cans that were strewn about the table. The dim lighting provided by mood lights and colored lamps failed to impede her as she worked and occasionally glanced back at the woman in question. Her pink hair was pulled up in twin buns and she had a red headband in her hair. What was left out was wavy and messy, prompting her to continuously tuck it back from time to time. She was casually sipping at her own can, slightly swaying her hips to the music, too busy staring at Kiyo to notice Kirumi eyeing her. Kirumi’s eye twitched in annoyance. She didn’t believe Kiyo would ever throw a glance at another woman in such a way, but it didn’t hurt to keep tabs on others. Kiyo was busy chatting with Rantaro and another red haired boy over the low hum of bass music that filled the room. Hope's Peak parties tended to divide themselves between multiple rooms, and she was currently in the one with the less rambunctious personalities of the school. Kirumi had only bothered to attend as she had, correctly, assumed there’d be a distinct lack of damage control if not for her. 

After tying up the bag filled with various types of garbage she went to the kitchen and washed her hands. A boy moved over to speak to the girl. He was of average height and build, wore a dark jacket with a blue shirt underneath it, and had hair that appeared green, though it may have been a trick of the lighting. Kirumi smiled to herself. There was no harm in checking.

The boy moved on, sipping at his soda. He stopped by the snack table and looked over the selection of junk food various students had gathered up to share. Kirumi saw her chance.

“Would you like a plate and napkin, sir?” His shoulders slightly jumped, but he was quick to reign in his surprise. Half his head was shaved short, the other half was slightly fluffy and unkempt, though it didn’t seem to bother him much. He gave her a small smile. “Thank you, Tojo.” She raised a brow, surprised he knew her name. He was quick to pick up on that.

“I’m Shoji Yoko, from the student council. You’ve come in from time to time to clean the meeting room, yes?”

Kirumi nodded. She hadn’t remembered him, which was a failure on her part. “My apologies, Yoko. I’ll be sure to greet you from now on.” She said. A slight blush tinged his cheeks and he shrugged. “Say, who was that you were speaking to a moment ago?”

Yoko picked up a cheese puff and popped it in his mouth, pausing to chew before speaking. “Nishizawa? She’s on the student council as well.” Internally, Kirumi kicked herself. As the Ultimate Maid she was supposed to know this, even if they were two classes above her. 

“I was asking because one of my classmates had asked about her with romantic intent. They’d requested I be discreet in finding information about her.” Kirumi smiled just a bit as she spoke, hoping he wouldn’t question who the person of interest was. He calmly nodded, his expression failing to give any indication of suspicion.

“It’d be best to let your friend down now. She’s interested in Ichino.” He said and gestured to the red haired boy awkwardly floating within her orbit then. Ah, that would explain the staring. Kirumi was relieved to know she wouldn’t have to deal with her. The boy had been with Kiyo earlier.

“I would hope you're not intending on playing clean up for the entire duration of the party, dear.” Speak of the devil. A smooth voice sounded in her ear as a hand wrapped around her waist. Despite her rank as a maid of utmost skill and respect, Kirumi still failed to keep a blush from forming on her cheeks as Kiyo pulled her next to him. Kirumi couldn’t quite see, but something of a silent conversation must have occured between the two boys. For a fraction of a second Yoko's eyes widened before he lowered his chin. 

With a gracious smile he spoke. “Thank you again, Tojo. I hope to see you in the student council room, from time to time.” He gave a slight bow and left, food in hand. Kirumi could only nod, filing his name away and resolving to remember the names of the other student council members later. 

Kiyo’s other hand removed the plates from her gloved fingers and gently set them on the table. Kirumi turned to him. He was dressed down from his usual attire, opting to only wear his dress shirt and pants, though the bandages on his scarred fingers still remained. His long hair was pulled back into a ponytail and signature mask still adorned his face. “What were you two chatting about?” He inquired as he handed her a plastic cup of punch.

“Nothing of importance. I was offering him a plate for his food.” Which was indeed what made up about a fifth of the five sentence conversation the two had. She took his offering graciously and had a small sip. While she wasn’t fond of overly sweet things, it was given to her.

Kiyo nodded and stepped closer to her. Despite her wanting to be near him, she still attempted to move back, aware of the many people in the room that were most definitely not paying the two any mind. The table kept the two mere inches apart. “Are you aware,” he leaned down and whispered in her ear,  sending shivers down her spine and causing her heartbeat to quicken . “that parties are generally held as a social event?” Kirumi couldn’t help the slight chuckle that left her lips. Though, he apparently had not been speaking in a joking manner, considering the slight lift of his eyebrow. His fingers wrapped around the hand gripping her drink and guided it back to her lips.

“I am, did you not see me socializing?” She spoke into the cup before taking a few more sips, ignoring the slight bite it had due to carbonation. His hand held it there, but Kirumi was inclined to wait a few seconds before drinking more of the tooth rotting beverage. 

“Ah, so you were doing more than offering him plateware.” Kirumi tried not to act as though she had been caught, though her hands grew a bit sweaty inside of her gloves. In an attempt to stall, more of the drink was drained from the cup, which was nearly emptied of the bright red liquid.

“I was inquiring about the student council members. I attend to their needs during meetings when they request it so.”

“Then you  _ weren’t _ socializing now were you?” He spoke with a slight lilt in his voice, teasing her. Kirumi hid her face in her drink, feeling caught no matter what she said. 

“I… suppose not.”

Kiyo slipped the cup from her fingers, his own brushing against hers as he did so. Her face felt permanently ablaze. “Why not relax a bit?” Despite the slight giddiness that made her feel light headed, the paper plates and plastic cups the other students had failed to throw out were of more importance than her socializing. 

“I’d love to, however  _ someone _ should attempt to clean up.”

Kiyo moved his hands up to cup her cheeks, the slight roughness of the bandages doing little to disturb their peaceful moment. “Kirumi, I request that you spend your time at this party with me. I promise to aid you in cleaning up once the others have left.” He said.

The magic words were spoken and she was bound to follow his request, whether or not it was a poor idea. He’d offered her an out and she was inclined to take it. Kirumi laced her fingers with his. “I suppose there is no refusing you.” She said and smiled.

Kiyo grinned, the faintest outline of his lips appeared under the fabric of his mask, and leaned forward to peck her forehead. Despite the fabric being in the way, the kiss made her feel tipsy and giddy, though she held her own by squeezing his hand tightly. “Then let’s first refill your drink.”


	2. He knows

It was only when Kirumi was on her third drink that she began to visibly show signs of intoxication. Kiyo was well aware of the fact someone had spiked the punchbowl, and he took full advantage of the fact that Kirumi had not been informed.  Protective gaze trained on her slightly swaying figure, he kept her close to him . She had begun to grow clingy, keeping her arm linked with his, seemingly unfazed at the prospect of appearing unprofessional. Heart feeling full to the brim as they exchanged words and touches, Kiyo too felt the effects of her intoxication, though his chosen drug was her. 

“Kiyo… I’m growing tired.” She spoke with a slight whine in her voice as she leaned on him, tottering slightly. He chuckled. “We’re to stay until everybody leaves in order to fulfill my end of the bargain and clean afterwards. Do you not recall?” The slightest pout appeared on her lips but she nodded. “I’d forgotten… thank you for reminding me.” She set down her emptied cup. Kiyo picked it up and went to refill it without her prompting.

“You don’t have to do that everytime I finish…” He heard the slight exasperation in her voice but ignored it as he entered the small kitchen area. They’d opted to stay near it, with Kiyo’s prompting and mentioning of how messy kitchens tended to get. And indeed it was, as the area was littered with cups and half finished plates of snacks still scattered with crumbs. No matter, he reminded himself as he spooned two large scoops of punch into the cup, they wouldn’t be cleaning it anyhow.

“Man, you must have a high tolerance, ‘cause that's like, your fourth one!” A boy with flaming red hair and a goatee, a white coat, and bright electric blue eyes shot him a grin. By his side, a girl with long blue locks and a girls sailor uniform smiled apologetically.

“Oh?” Was all the anthropologist responded with, opting to leave before he was dragged into a conversation he wasn’t interested in. He had the far more important task of monitoring Kirumi’s actions and making sure that  _ other _ student, the older student council member, kept away from her.

When he returned she was seated on the couch, where the exact student in question just so happened to be. How quaint. Instead of crushing the cup, which he nearly did, he forced himself to control his grip, opting to sit between the two. 

“Here you are my dear.” 

“Thank you, Kiyo.” Kirumi smiled, taking a few more sips, and set it down on the coffee table in front of them. He peered at her, noticing her starched sleeves were rolled up somewhat messily to her elbows, a clear sign of how intoxicated she truly was. She hadn’t bothered changing before the party, most likely because she intended to work during it. Unbeknownst to her, Kiyo had accepted the invitation for that very reason, wanting an excuse to spend more time together and help her unwind, as he knew she would never overlook a reason to work. He hadn’t planned on coercing her into drinking, but once the prospect of a clingy drunken Kirumi entered his head he couldn’t help but offer her the punch. Not to mention, they  _ were _ at a party, after all. And what fun was a party without some… entertainment?

“Where are your thoughts?” He asked, after she took a few more sips of her drink.

Kirumi sighed as she leaned against him and threaded her fingers with his own. “You know, I’m wondering why nobody’s using coasters.” She said. Kiyo chuckled, rubbing his thumb against her gloved hand.

“Do you think most high schoolers have and regularly use coasters?” The disapproving click of her tongue was enough of an answer.

“I’m also wondering why people insist on throwing these parties.” She said, shifting to hike up her skirt. 

“We already discussed this earlier, yes? Often time, parties are thrown as a sort of social gathering done for recreational, celebratory, and communal purposes.” He lectured with a teasing tone, and apparently it hit its mark because she scoffed.

“Mmm... You know what I mean. I’d enjoy a small get together much more than this.” And with that statement, Kirumi’s head dropped, nestling into his shoulder. Kiyo wondered if four was enough for her. He supposed one more cup wouldn’t hurt… though it begged the question of how much she’d eaten.

“I know, as would I. Though I must say... it’s interesting to watch all the different types of people we truly have at this school... kehehe.”

Kirumi nodded, though it was awkward with their current position. Her hair tickled his cheek, reminding him again of that fifth, final cup.

Voice oozing with concern, he questioned: “My dear, have you eaten anything for dinner yet?” Kirumi moved away and finished the last of her drink. As if moving through molasses, she yawned and stretched, the cup nearly slipping from her lax grip. “I had onigiri before the party began, don’t worry about me.” Tilting his head in acknowledgement, Kiyo rose from the couch, deftly taking the cup from her loose fingers. 

“Wonderful. Please wait a moment.” She nodded and leaned back into the couch cushions.

Kiyo returned to the bowl and promised himself he would refrain from doing so again. Beadily, redhead eyed him suspiciously. “Be careful man…” Kiyo brushed off his concern. Already concerned expression deepening, the blue haired girl nodded in affirmation.

“For all intents and purposes, this is my last time.” They gave him strange looks, but he ignored them.

“Whyyy is it so hoottt?” Kirumi was whining and pulling off her gloves when he returned. Ah yes. How unbecoming of the Ultimate Maid. If she was sounding like  _ Ouma of all people _ , she most  _ definitely _ needed to stop after this one. Kiyo chuckled and handed the drink to her. This time, however, he was surprised to see her pick it up and immediately begin gulping it down without hesitation. Perhaps the “heat” made her thirsty.

“Mooommm! Shumai’s chasing meeee, save me!” As if on cue, Ouma himself rushed into the living room, clutching the ultimate detective’s cap in his hands. Ignoring his plea for help, Kirumi only stopped drinking when her cup was empty, giving Saihara enough time to catch up to the two. She finished fast enough to earn a cute little hiccup at the end, something that made Kiyo groan internally as a familiar shit eating cheeky grin stretched across the purple haired gremlins face.

“Ooohh...are you drunkkk? Does this mean I can- hey!” Seemingly permanent apologetic expression on his face, Saihara snatched his cap away from Ouma and put it back on his head defensively. 

“Seriously Ouma? What makes you think… oh.” Kirumi’s countenance was glowing in a burning flush as she clung to Kiyo’s sleeve.

Voice slurring, she responded. “What? I’ve just been… drinking punch.” She spoke slowly as though she was beginning to fall asleep. Her heavily-lidded gaze, glazed over with exhaustion, told Kiyo she’d had enough. 

“...Tojo, the punch was spiked. Didn’t you know that?” Saihara picked up her cup, holding it to the air as though he was inspecting a piece of evidence. 

“Kiyo?” She looked to him with mild confusion, not a hint of suspicion in her eyes despite his evidently growing incrimination. Though perhaps that was due to the alcohol clouding her thinking. 

Eyes widening in mock innocence, he answered her queries smoothly. “Oh? It was? I hadn’t realized. I’d merely assumed others were drunk from the various beer cans and bottles of alcohol that filled the trash.” 

As expected from the self-proclaimed “king of liars,” Ouma saw right through it all. “Hmm, I don’t know about you, Shuulock Holmes, but that sounds like a filthy lie! I bet you just wanted to get mommy drunk so you could have her all to yourself! Well that's not happening!” Ouma jumped onto the couch and grabbed onto Kirumi. Though garnering from the mischievous smile he had, Kiyo supposed he wasn’t being serious. Or at the very least found the whole situation to be more amusing than anything else. 

Saihara seemed to doubt Kiyo’s words, a suspicious expression (one that they all knew too well) making its way onto his face. “Are you sure? Kaito was saying something about it earlier...” he murmured, watching as Ouma poked at Kirumi, whose head was lolling as she tiredly tried to remove his arms from her. 

“I haven’t spoken to Kaito all night.” Kiyo’s retort was smooth, but the veiled irritation was apparent. 

“Hmm… well,” Ouma stood up from the couch. “As long as mom gets to her room safe and sound… then there’s no reason to be concerned. Isn’t that riiiight,  _ dad _ ?” Countenance morphing into a rather disturbing dark grin, the Supreme Leader tilted his head innocently, a finger at his lips. Unfazed by the threatening display, despite his mild worry about being exposed to Kirumi, Kiyo simply nodded.

“Actually, before we were…  _ interrupted _ … we were just planning on retiring from the party.” 

“Huh? We were?” Abruptly, Kirumi’s head shot up, looking up at him with what could only be described as doe eyes, green eyes big and round. Kiyo nearly melted at the sight.

“Oh, alright, do you need he-hey!” Cheeky grin back on his face, Ouma had seized the opportunity, snatching Saihara’s hat again and taking off into the distance. Saihara gave the two a sheepish smile. “Well, have a good night you two.” He said before running off.

Kiyo sighed, rising from the couch. “Regardless, it's about time we left.” Kirumi stared at him quizzically for a few seconds, and he took that as an indication that she needed a bit more convincing.

“Kirumi, aren’t you tired?” Seemingly responding to the use of her first name, she nodded and stood up, only to nearly trip and fall in her three inch heels. Instantly, Kiyo caught her and kept her upright, supporting her stumbling form with a firm grip on her waist. Perhaps Gonta would be best equipped to help escort her back to her room… 

“Wait just a moment, darling.” He leaned her against the nearest wall and knelt down. “Whaaaat? You’ve shrunk.” Eyes clouded with confusion, she attempted to lean down and grab him. Kiyo batted at her hands as he carefully undid the ribbons of her heels.

“Kehehe. I haven't shrunk... maybe you’ve grown.” He slipped her shoe from her foot, careful to steady her as she stood on uneven platforms. Ironically, his action made her somewhat shorter than before. 

“Maybe… buuut… how much have I grown then?” Kiyo slipped off her other shoe and stood, tying their ribbons together neatly to keep her from losing them.

“Just kidding.” Amusement lacing his voice, he tapped her nose. Kirumi took her shoes, but still seemed to struggle to walk still. 

“What’s the matter?”

Kirumi looked up at him, eyes wide with horror. “I think I shrank.” It took all he had in him to keep himself from snickering at her comment. A few of the partygoers around them had been watching and began laughing as quietly as they could manage. He couldn’t blame them.

Kirumi frowned and clutched at her shoes as she stomped her foot petulantly. “This is serious! I need to make sure I haven’t gotten shorter! What will everyone think if I go back to class and I’ve shrunk!” 

Kiyo couldn’t hold back and buried his face in her shoulder as the laughs around them rose in sound. Raspy near wheezes left him uncontrollably. He could feel that Kirumi was about to protest and did his best to calm down. “Alright, alright-.”

Kirumi gasped. “KIYO! WHAT IF I KEEP SHRINKING?!” 

…

The two managed to finally get to one of their dorms by the time curfew was underway. Unfortunately, or fortunately, it was Kiyo’s. Kirumi was humming contentedly to herself as she was finally convinced that the world had shrunk a bit with her, so she had no reason to worry. Kiyo opened his door, relieved to see Rantaro wasn’t there.

“I like your paintings.” Kirumi commented behind him as she moved towards his bed, clumsily yanking off her already loose tie.

“Why thank you. They’re historical replicas I was allowed to keep.” Kiyo pulled out his regular set of pajamas and turned to Kirumi.

“Here, sleep in these.” Kirumi took them and clumsily began trying to undo her apron. Kiyo considered watching--it wasn’t like it would be particularly heinous considering the fact that they were dating--but he’d like to wake up and not be hated by the one person he loved that was still on this earth. 

“Kiyooo…” Eyes still averted, he turned away from the doorframe he stood in front of, partially out of respect and partially to ensure Rantaro wouldn’t appear out of nowhere and walk in on her changing. Lips contorted into a pout and awkwardly struggling to reach behind her back for the ribbon of her dress, Kirumi frowned. “I can’t get the knot undone.”

He sighed with a soft smile. Had this been anyone else he would’ve lost his patience by now. The anthropologist supposed the reason he wanted to see her vulnerable side was because she was so independent and graceful… he was glad to know that she’d rely on him if need be. Gingerly, he carefully undid the knot on her apron’s neck and waist. Still slightly swaying, Kirumi allowed it to fall to the floor and began unzipping her dress. Again, he turned around. 

There were a number of rustles. “Kirumi, let me help you with your pantyhose.” 

“Alright.” He turned to see her in the shirt he’d given her, its sleeves just a bit too long and covering her hands. She was seated on the bed, allowing the bottom of the shirt to cover past her thighs. Kiyo knelt down again, pausing and glancing at her, wondering if she’d assume he shrank again. Instead, Kirumi was looking even more tired, her jaw lax and eyes lidded. She paused to rub at her eye.

“Kiyo…”

“Apologies. You must be tired.” He carefully grabbed the delicate fabric and tapped her thigh to indicate that she needed to lift her body. Wordlessly, Kirumi did so, allowing him to ease the garment down her legs without tearing it. The gauzy material slid gently off her skin. The porcelain skin of her legs appeared far too delicate for somebody with her strength but was far more beautiful than he could have anticipated. Of course she was beautiful, she embodied a vital part of humanity that commanded the utmost respect. As a student of Hope's Peak she represented the very potential of humanity as a whole, a bright spark to light the way for humanity. As a maid,  _ the maid _ , she was a class that allowed others to go on to achieve great things. She was truly a part of humanity that acted as a pillar to society. Beyond that, to perform such an important job, a job viewed as lower by most of society, with such grace and pride due to understanding the importance of her role… Kirumi was truly an outstanding being.

Kiyo was no fool, he understood she was a woman and he a man, but he couldn’t help but look at her as far more than that. Swiftly, he gathered up her clothes and turned around again as she pulled on her pants. It would be best to keep them as pristine as possible to avoid suspicion of a walk of shame--heaven forbid. Her dress, apron, and shirt went on hangers, pantyhose were carefully folded, and tie and gloves were set on his work desk to ensure they wouldn’t be forgotten. 

Kiyo went to his bathroom with a spare pair of pajamas and followed his nighttime routine. Knocking sounded at the bathroom door as he unwrapped his bandages. His scarred hand opened the door to reveal Kirumi sleepily standing there.

“May I help you?” He asked. The buttons on her shirt were fastened haphazardly, most likely due to clumsy drunken hands. 

“I thought you left… “ She murmured. He shook his head and moved back to the sink, letting his hair down from the ponytail that was beginning to give him a headache. “I’d never leave you.” Her reflection flushed even deeper than the light faded drunken one from earlier.

“May I brush your hair?”

His hand froze in place. He eyed Kirumi as she stood at the doorway, nervously fiddling with her hands. “I suppose you may.” 

She approached him carefully and he seated himself on the closed toilet seat lid. Smooth fingertips gently threaded along the base of his scalp, soothing him with her touch. Kiyo handed her the brush. Gently--surprisingly gently given her state-- she began slowly moving it through his hair. It wasn’t prone to knotting, so the brush continuously ran through his hair until the very end. Her other hand moved through the previously treaded area, as though she was ensuring she’d brushed it well enough. 

Even in her intoxication, she was still so devoted to maintaining her attentive tendencies. 

Kiyo would admit, he was surprised at how careful and adept she was in her inebriated state. Kirumi always carried herself with grace and dignity, one of the many traits he admired of hers; even when she finished, she simply continued to thread her fingers through his hair. Leaning into her touch, he savored the slight tingle that ran through his scalp at her actions. Her nails were neatly trimmed and slightly scratched his skin, but never to a level of discomfort. After what seemed like an eternity, her pace became lazy, slowing, and he could feel her begin to lean on him. 

Regrettably, he turned around to face her and stop her from tipping over. Kirumi immediately leaned into him, her face burying into his neck. “Kiyo… I’m sorry if I ruined your night. I didn’t want to be a burden, but-.” She was drunkenly rambling then, her words slurring together in some places. In his position he could only cradle her head. If only she knew…

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I offered you the punch. Come now, you should sleep off what’s in your system.” He stood and guided her by her shoulders to the bed. 

“But-!” 

Kiyo sat down on the edge of the bed with her, placing his hands on her shoulders firmly. “No, but nothing.” He pulled her into his lap. Admittedly, Kirumi was never this open about her feelings. Often the two communicated silently, through body language and implied words. Having her be so open was both alien and somewhat refreshing to be appreciated. Again, he only felt a bit of shame in having her drink the punch, but he didn’t enjoy not having somebody on the same level as him, the way the two usually were. Contentedly, Kiyo sighed as he cradled her, feeling her breathing begin to slow. 

He laid back, wanting to go to sleep and wake up to his Kirumi, realizing that he had a certain amount of regret for his actions. “You’re beautiful…” She murmured tiredly as she passed out. 

But only so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editors notes: "he is no longer baby and he wants that power." Also "haha mama toj go totter totter."  
> I have a true intellectual by my side. I'd die for drunk Kirumi she can have my heart and my wallet thank you.


	3. A declaration

Kirumi woke up to a dull throb at the base of her skull. Before her eyelids even rose she knew that the light would cause her some form of discomfort. Indeed, when she did so it caused the throbbing sensation in her head to increase in its intensity. Blinking, she panned her gaze around. By the maps that littered the wall opposite to her and the dark green sheets that were swathed about her, it was evident this was not her room. She slowly sat up and cringed when the floor tilted the smallest bit.

Kirumi replayed the hazy memories of the night before. Ah. _ That _ happened. Her childish outbursts made her want to sink into the floor in shame. Instead she threw her legs over the edge of the bed, resolving to go check up on the rooms where the party occurred.

“Good morning.”

The sound of the door followed his smooth voice. He still wore his pajamas, a pin striped green and white ensemble, and in his hand he held a plate with bananas, scrambled eggs, and apples. In his other was a glass of water. Kirumi fixed him with a glare. Well, with the best one she could manage, as contorting her facial muscles caused her head to pulse violently. 

“Are you feeling more like yourself?” Kiyo said, letting his smile drop when he saw her expression. “My dear, is something the matter?”

Despite how she acted when intoxicated, she was no fool. “Did you truly believe that I’d fall for your obvious lie?”

From the subtle tensing of his shoulders and furrowed eyebrows she knew her words had hit her mark. “Oh? Do inform me, whatever could you mean?” Kirumi stood up, unwilling to tolerate his gaslighting. 

“Why not discuss this over breakfast before you-?”

She ignored him and grabbed her clothes off the hangars, shutting the door in his face as he followed her, attempting to appeal to her. “Kirumi I didn’t-.” Upon closer examination, the maid looked haggard. Her usually well-maintained hair was unkempt and her eyes, ringed with stress, looked sunken yet puffy. In an attempt to hide her exhaustion she splashed cold water on her face and ran her fingers through her hair. The cool sensation eased the tension in her jaw and neck, allowing her to pull on her clothes with minimal fuss. She was still missing her tights, tie, shoes, and gloves, but no matter.

Before she turned the handle she took a deep breath. 

Kiyo was seated on the edge of his bed, seemingly waiting for her expectantly. “Let’s discuss last night's events, hm?” In his hands were the items she’d noted as lost.

Ah. Her eyebrow twitched, but she remained in place, refusing to step any closer. Kiyo took that as a sign of her agreement. “I admit, I was aware that the punch had alcohol in it.” He admitted, though he did not sound apologetic in the slightest. 

“Are you-?” 

“No, I’m not. I found your antics and behavior endearing. Seeing this other side of you is reason for me not to regret making you drink.”

He’d had his chance. Kirumi was ready to leave.

“Goodbye.” Without so much as a glance, she turned to do just that, but just as her fingers closed around the doorknob, arms wound themselves around her waist and his face buried itself in her neck. A smirk played on her lips. How underhanded.

“Still, I apologize. I won’t do it again.” She let out a deep breath, smiling as his lips pressed to the nape of her neck. Yes, this was how they were supposed to be. It was a push and pull, the two back on equal levels. Still, he’d played dirty, and she was foolish enough to allow herself to be handicapped. Things would not be easily fixed with such an insufficient apology. 

“I’m glad to hear that.” With a flourish, she opened the door and left him there, bare feet padding along the floor of the hallway. The red flag had been flown, and she was interested to see what strategy he planned to employ against her.

…

Yellow eyes bore into the back of Kirumi’s head during class. She’d appeared with her usual black tights and a replacement tie, but was missing her gloves and heels. Instead, she wore a pair of black boots and a pair of dark red gloves. 

Kokichi was speaking to her, laughing and teasing her about her actions the night before. The maid was having none of it, roughly pinching his cheek and scolding him as he twisted in an attempt to weasel out of her grasp.

“I think there’d be holes in her if you stared any harder.” Without turning his head, Kiyo’s eyes shifted to the desk in front of him. Rantaro sat facing backwards in his chair, resting his arms on Kiyos desk casually as he spoke.

“I’m assuming you’ve already been made aware of what happened at the party last night?” Kiyo cut straight to the point, uninterested in beating around the proverbial bush.

“It’d be hard not to. Ouma wouldn’t stop talking about it and a couple of people mentioned it at the party, unfortunately.” Rantaro spoke as he pulled out a bottle of dark blue nail polish. Kiyo sighed.

“Perchance, did you happen to stay the night with him?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow. Rantaro caught onto his phrasing and flicked the brush at him in mock anger. Kiyo chuckled in response.

“Kaito invited some of us over to their dorm, so we ended up passing out there.” Kiyo noted a few of the boys, particularly those Kaito spent more time with, trickled into class later than usual. He supposed Kirumi was not the only one subject to the wrath and cruelty of alcohol.

“Yes, well you see, Kirumi and I are currently engaged in a dispute I intend to win.”

Rantaro hummed. “Do I really want to know what you mean by that?” He said as he nonchalantly painted a perfect stroke of blue along his nail. Kiyo always appreciated his point of view as a sort of enabler of all the chaos that ensued in the class. Rantaro was a voice of grounded amusement Kiyo found refreshing as a like minded individual.

In this case however, it was Kiyo who was the instigator of a controlled chaos that raged underneath the noses of everybody. It was a tension others could see but never understand as outsiders to their relationship. Kirumi walked to her chair, not sparing him a glance. Kiyo knew she was aware of his gaze. 

“No.” 

…

Kirumi was serving lunch when the first strike came. She’d thought ahead and served everybody’s lunch beforehand, rather than waiting to present it as the others entered. Drinks, however, were still to be served by her, due to the fact that she was to pour refills should students request them. This was when he attacked.

“Tojo, may I please have a refill?” Kirumi nearly looked at him, but managed to stop her eyes before they traveled away from the cake she’d just set down. His words garnered the attention of the others around the two. Kaede and Shuichi, who were chatting idly, exchanged uncomfortable glances, while Rantaro chose to rest his chin on his hand and watch with curious interest. Ouma, however, was more vocal. Crocodile tears built in his eyes immediately. 

“Wahh! Are mommy and daddy fighting?” He cried as he yanked at Rantaro’s shoulder. Rantaro shushed him but Ouma instead turned on him, accusing him of not caring as tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Of course, Shinguji.” Graciously polite as always, she pasted a smile on her face-- without looking at him of course-- and grabbed the teapot she required. No, it was not his favored jasmine tea, but rather, chai tea. Kiyo despised that specific flavor, citing it as needlessly overwhelming. 

She gently took the cup from its saucer, Kiyo, respecting their rules, left it in place, and the maid poured the drink expertly. The tea fell perfectly into the cup even as she raised her arm higher and higher, managing to keep from spilling a drop. Gently, she set it back in place and walked away with a smirk on her lips.

…

Kiyo was rinsing his mouth out with water in the bathroom while Rantaro watched on with an amused smile. He wasn’t concerned with keeping his mask on, as the area was empty and he was more concerned with the burning feeling on his tongue.

“You didn’t  _ have _ to drink it.” He said, tone full of mirth. Kiyo waved him away, still swishing the water in his mouth. He would not be admitting defeat so easily. He spit out a mouthful of water and struggled to reach the napkin dispenser in order to wipe his face.

“Rantaro, will you do me a favor?” Said boy eyed him warily. Kiyo understood why, he was a spectator, not a part of the circus. Still, Kiyo needed to employ a different strategy against his opponent. 

…

Kiyo watched as Rantaro approached Kirumi. He was a good actor, keeping up a jovial but relaxed attitude even in the face of Kirumi’s business-like and somewhat socially awkward way of speaking. 

Kirumi herself was not awkward, her being nigh unwilling to engage with other students socially inspired discomfort in students that were more casual and ignorant to her views on her title. Kiyo smiled, allowing himself to indulge in a moment of pride. He’d been the first to understand and the first to speak to her as an equal. The two had engaged in multiple meetings after, each building to their eventual relationship. Yes, he was proud to say she and him were equals.

Rantaro chuckled at one point, earning an exasperatedly strained smile from Kirumi. Kiyo rubbed at his ear in irritation, pushing back the bit of possessiveness that rose unnecessarily. He was aware that Rantaro not only had no interest in women, but Kirumi lacked interest in romance generally. Still, the urge to hold her arose.

Rantaro offered her the box Kiyo had prepared. Kirumi eyed it warily before speaking. Kiyo bit his tongue in bitter disappointment when Rantaro held up his hands in surrender and his body language shifted to be more nervous. The box was pushed away. Reluctantly, Rantaro returned to the corner where he was hidden. “Sorry, she figured it out immediately.” Apologetically, he held out the gift. Kiyo sighed and frowned to himself in a brief moment of irritation, taking it from his fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writers notes: Kiyo is a pussy for rinsing his mouth out.


	4. Another Day, Another Victory

Kirumi didn’t need to take on an offensive role; nor was she necessarily interested in that. Whether or not it was due to any silent agreements moments before her declaration was debatable. 

Still, she had a trump card. The question was not if, but when she’d employ it. Yesterday was merely the beginning. 

Some might call the bit of joy this situation sparked in her sadistic. It wasn’t often she found herself engaged with somebody else like this. She was never interested when people pursued her in such a manner either: sending gifts, pining after her attention, etc, for it was her sole responsibility as a maid to remain focused on her duties. This was only something that could occur between her and Kiyo.

Her anger had only mildly dissipated since he apologized. She didn’t want lies, he knew that when he clarified his intent behind his actions. At least that much she could appreciate. No, it was his disregard for her as a person, his lack of respect, that was what had angered her so much. Not that she would ever outright say it, but Kirumi was both hurt and concerned he’d do something like this again, should he not receive repercussions and consequences for his actions. 

The only reason she hadn’t severed all ties with him was because he had ultimately respected her usual boundaries even while she was drunk. Besides purposely inebriating her for his amusement, he hadn’t done anything to violate her person. Kirumi cringed and patted her bangs further over her face, embarrassed of her clingy and childish behavior that night. 

As she waited outside of the classroom, footsteps sounded from the right, garnering her attention. A loud female voice sounded from the area, belonging to Tenko. Kirumi smiled, already picturing the taller girl dragging along a slothful Himiko to class. 

“Good morning, Tojo.” With her guard lowered he attacked. 

Kiyo always walked near silently, something he took advantage of to catch her off guard. She didn’t have time to stop her head from whipping around to look at him in surprise. 

He was looking at her with what could only be described bluntly as a shit-eating grin hidden under his mask, the corners of his narrow eyes turned up. Kirumi had to forcefully contort her face into the serene, complacent smile she often used when engaging with clients. 

“Master.” 

The reaction was immediate, as she saw his face slacken in shock and his smile drop. Reading his expressions was an art form to her, body language was, in fact, a second language. The subtle crease of his brow, slight push of his cheeks, wrinkle of his nose, all told her what needed to be known. And what was being communicated was exactly what she wanted to know.

“Tojo! Come over here, away from that disgusting degenerate!” Kirumi diverted her attention to Tenko, who had been the one to shout, and left him behind, the latter still stunned into silence.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's notes: and our daily shenanigans ensue.


	5. This is Definitely Not Stalking

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Kiyo was bouncing his leg in an attempt to divert the nervous energy that had built up in his body over the course of the past two days. His past two strategies failed him, with Kirumi one upping him effortlessly each time, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he would last.

Still, a measly three days was pathetically short, and Kiyo still had his pride to maintain. Of course, not enough to keep from following Kirumi about, under the guise of happening to be in the area. Part of this was a persistence tactic, he didn't expect her to break under such an obviously shallow and base-level maneuver, but he hoped to at least wear her down on some level. 

He was seated in the library, watching keenly through the shelves for Kirumi’s silhouette. She had left the classroom in order to aid the librarian and dust the shelves. Kiyo’s ears strained to hear the low sound of heels against the carpet.

Movement in the corner of his eye convinced him to stand from his chair. He walked over to that area, clutching his book in his fingers. His heart rate picked up as he turned the corner around the tall shelves of the school.

Kirumi was pulling a silver cart with a few books on it, reaching up to shelve one of the last few. Kiyo walked by, not talking to her, but he managed to“accidentally” knock one of the books off the cart. She paused in recognition of the thump of the book against the ground. He carried on, until he reached the end of the nearest shelf and stopped to watch through the gaps between books and the shelves.

Kirumi grabbed a few more books off the cart, checked their author title and began to move on from the space. He bit his knuckle, resolving to grab the novel if she ignored it. The thump of heavy steps sounded and Kiyo jumped as he turned.

“Kiyo-san, Gonta was wondering what you're doing?” The entomologist stood over him, clutching a handful of books to his chest. The texts were all random, none of the titles meshing with his personality or goals. Thus, Kiyo could only assume he was helping out along with Kirumi. Quietly, he bit back the smallest bit of jealousy that took hold of him upon his conclusion. He usually didn’t get jealous when Kirumi interacted with other men, especially others from their class, but not being able to speak with her was admittedly making him jealous of anyone who got to do so. 

“Ah, well…” Kiyo took a moment to come up with a convincing answer. “I was merely wondering if the library assistants were reshelving novels that were returned.” Of course, that was literally their jobs, but Kiyo was aware Gonta wouldn’t call him out for such a blatant lie, being naive enough to believe Kiyo didn’t actually know what their job was. Unlike Ouma.

“Yes! If you didn’t turn in, Gonta can’t put them up.” He said, shifting the armful of books. Kiyo nodded, “Thank you Gokuhara, I’ll be seeing you in class.” 

Gonta smiled and gave him a nod, rushing forward to catch up with Kirumi. He placed the books on the cart and exchanged a few quick words with her, before going back to grab the book from the floor. Kiyo frowned to himself, watching as the two continued. 

Again, he didn't regularly follow her, in fact if he wanted to spend time with her he’d simply request her company. This was simply a waiting tactic. Not to mention, he was struggling to get so much as a glance in his direction, even when directly addressing her. 

Kiyo missed spending time with her after she finished her work for the day, offering her tea and helping her unwind with soft conversations and comforting foods, small snacks and pastries she enjoyed. It was worse because she was staying out as late as possible doing work, perhaps to spite him and his past insistence on her finishing at a set time, the prior time being 8:30 to 9 P.M. He clutched his book to his chest, supposing he was fighting a losing battle, but he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's notes: Kiyo your creep is showing... again.


	6. Did He Cough Up All Those flowers?

Kirumi could tell Kiyo was becoming worn down. Four days in and he had begun setting up small “traps” around her main areas of work. Boxes of expensive foreign chocolate, pale roses tied together with black ribbons, small packets of her favorite tea blends, and handwritten notes all appeared in the kitchens, her desk, and shoe locker. Each time she found one, a small bit of disappointment filled her stomach at being unable to accept them. Try as she might, she was being worn down as well, slowly but surely.

Kirumi wouldn’t deny it, she actually did miss the anthropologist’s presence in her life. Lunch was no longer enjoyable as she no longer received those precious few minutes with him afterward, when she’d cleared the table of dishes and everybody but the two had left. 

After work was worse. Kirumi loved the satisfaction that filled her heart after a successful day of attending to her duties. There was no doubt, but it was not having him there when she returned that made it less than welcoming.

Yesterday he had continuously appeared in places she’d been working, at the library, in the kitchen along with Kaede, in the halls she was sweeping. It was somewhat unnerving seeing him nearly everywhere she went, for having to continuously keep her guard up wore on her nerves, making her even more exhausted when she returned to her dorm.

Now, she at least only had to deal with the traps he’d set. When Kirumi approached the janitor's closet she was puzzled to see the key was left in the handle. She opened the door without hesitation, being allowed access to it whenever she required due to her talent. From the room came an avalanche of roses that pelted her, scattering all over the floor. There was a loud gasp from inside the closet and Sarou, the janitor, popped out from the room.

“Oh my God Tojo-san! I’m so happy you come here so early! I’ve been in there for hours!” Breathing heavily and pausing to cough up a few flower petals, Sarou stretched his legs, savoring the feeling of freedom. Kirumi’s lips twitched up at the desperate and over the top antics Kiyo had come up with this time. The two were usually very subtle in their gestures, so she could tell he was definitely starting to crack. 

Sarou pulled out one of the large trash cans he often used when moving around the school and began picking up the flowers and stuffing them into there. Kirumi grabbed a broom and joined him, feeling just a bit guilty for tossing them so carelessly into the trash. As she swept she asked, “However did you manage to end up in the closet for such a long time?”

The janitor hissed as he grabbed a flower with a thorn that had yet to be cut. “Ouch! Well, I was finishing up my rounds last night and stopped by here to put up my mop and broom when all those flowers were shoved in there. I couldn’t get to the door but even so I didn’t have my keys, since I left them with my bag out… ah, here!” He turned the corner and grabbed his bag. Ah, Kiyo had unwittingly locked the poor janitor in there. How careless--very unlike the methodical individual she knew. Kirumi hummed as she swept. Perhaps there was a chance he’d assumed that Sarou wasn’t inside, given that his bag and keys were outside the room. 

“Do you know who did this? It’s not everyday this kinda stuff happens. Seems like you’ve got an admirer or something.” He murmured to himself with a chuckle. Kirumi shook her head, unwilling to acknowledge the offering. 

“No, but perhaps they’re for you.” She said. Sarou blushed, shaking his head and tying up the first bag they filled. “Aw shucks. Awfully nice of you to say, but that can’t be it, these are kids…” He sighed, opening a new bag for the last few flowers that Kirumi had gathered up. 

Kirumi was tempted to pocket one flower for herself, wanting to slightly revel in Kiyo’s affection. He was considerably possessive and clingy when the two were together, his hands always on her person when he could help it. Not in a sexual way, often he would simply hold her hand, link arms with her, or place his hand on the small of her back--always small gestures. Kirumi only minded when she was around many people that she needed to appear professional in front of. It was a part of his personality stemming from very personal experiences that Kirumi had no reason to hold against him. Generally, it made her feel cherished, despite not being an overly affectionate person herself, she did find the lack of comforting touch to be noticeable. 

She shook her head at the urge, silently scolding herself. This was war and even a moment of weakness would give Kiyo that single second he needed to attack and break her defense; there were few chinks in her armor, but he was definitely crafty enough to find and take advantage of them. Now was not the time to feel guilt for ignoring him, because she had set her mind on punishment, making sure he regretted what he had done and given her a proper apology. 

Wiping her gloved hands, Kirumi threw the last flower in the bin and watched Sarou walk away to dispose of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's notes: not pictured: Sarou off screen pausing to cough up even more petals and kick them to the side awkwardly.  
> Editor's notes: Kiyo really held this guy at katanapoint like keep yaking out petals or you die


	7. Playing Dirty... Again

The anthropologist was growing paranoid. Every day Kirumi didn’t acknowledge him was another day he worried he’d misinterpreted her declaration as being one of battle, rather than being one dissolving their relationship. His stomach dropped at the thought of losing someone he held so dear in his heart. 

Kiyo was actually regretting getting her tipsy then. In the beginning he’d viewed their battle as a simple task to face, something that was necessary but would pass like a storm. He had forgotten about her resolve and had forgotten to view and respect her as his equal after seeing her vulnerable. The duo were people of pride, respecting themselves and expecting such in turn from others. He understood his actions wounded her that night, and had expected he’d need to apologize and give her time to heal. But perhaps he didn’t understand how badly he’d upset her. Perhaps what he had done was unforgivable…

None of the traps she’d encountered had been effective, and he was running out of different ways to approach her. Much like he had at the very beginning of the battle, Kiyo was ready to play dirty, just for a single glance to ensure she didn’t hate him. Squaring his shoulders, he strode down the hallway, mind set on his plan. 

It was around 10 p.m., an hour before she used to go to bed before he’d convinced her to place stricter time limits on her work hours. He knew she spent most of her time at the front of the classroom and hoped she was still there. 

Indeed, Kirumi was wiping the classroom windows when he approached her. As he walked to her somebody across the hall caught his eye. Miu was tinkering with something in her hand as she slowly made her way down the hall. The inventor looked up and visibly looked ready to call out to Kirumi, her arm raised to gain the other girl's attention, but he managed to catch her eye, shooting her a glare that promised nothing but pain and suffering should she dare impede his plans. Miu jumped back, dropping a few screws in the process and garnering Kirumi’s attention.

“Ah, Miu-.”

“EEP! Heeee, I’M NOT HERE TO TALK TO YOU, YOU WEIRD BIG TIDDY GOTH BITCH!” Miu yelled and scampered off, rushing away from the hall. Kirumi stared at the spot Miu was just in and sighed, shaking her head and turning back to wipe the windows.

“Tojo-san.” She jumped, whipping her head around to look at him in surprise. Kiyo felt his heart rate increase and nearly grinned. His mood fell when she calmed down and looked back at the window, disinterested. Kiyo moved closer, leaning in to look at the spot she had honed in on. It was crystal clear. 

“I would like to request that you help me arrange a few artifacts in my study.”

Her hand stopped moving. He had given her an ultimatum, aid him or go to bed at a reasonable hour, giving him a small victory in affecting her schedule. Not to mention… those magic words. Kiyo watched, holding his breath.

“Of course.” She didn’t smile when she said it. Not even her terse, business smile. His stomach dropped.

Their walk to his study was silent.

“You see, I need you to move this map here, this statue on the bottom right, this sword and shield next to each other on this stand, and these novels stacked in alphabetical order in the glass case on the left.” As he spoke he pointed to a different spot in the case. Kirumi nodded wordlessly and got straight to work, even taking the time to dust and polish some of the artifacts. In less than thirty minutes she’d managed to arrange everything as he’d instructed. Kiyo swallowed, moving into phase two of his plan.

“Actually, Tojo-san, would you swap out the shield and the sword with the statue? The two look a bit odd there.” She complied and faithfully moved about the items in around 7 minutes, careful to arrange the two in an aesthetically pleasing fashion. 

“Also please arrange the novels by their publication date.” Kirumi glanced at him and then the clock on the wall, her lip twitching slightly downward and her shoulders lowering just a bit from exhaustion. “Alright.” This took her ten minutes. Kiyo’s hands twitched and he fought the urge to run them through his hair. 

“Is everything to your liking now,  _ master _ ?” Kirumi said, mincing out the words with veiled politeness. He held his chin, studying the area as though he were considering the layout. 

“Would you be so kind as to polish the glass container for the books and map display? I’d like to ensure that the two are easily visible to an untrained eye.” Her hands tightened their grip on each other and she nodded. “Very well.” 

Her slight reaction, one he rarely saw from her in response to nearly any request, made him slightly worried yet confident in his plan. This took her ten minutes, her hands steady but slow in their movement. She finished. “If that will be all…” Kirumi moved to walk past him. 

Kiyo held up a hand. 

“Actually,” She froze in place, “Could you move everything back into their original positions? I’m afraid this setup doesn’t reflect the importance of each piece as well as the original one.” He watched her back slowly straighten and her lips purse. “Of course, master.” She replied curtly and did just as he asked. For all of thirty minutes, Kiyo stared at her, attempting to gauge how close she was to breaking. If she would just look at him, acknowledge him...

She hefted each item as though they were made of lead, her walk getting a bit unstable after a long day of work. The maid was careful to set each piece down with care despite his irritating, contradictory orders. The last book was stacked and arranged neatly, the glass case slid into place, and she stepped away.

His heart dropped to his feet. She barely acknowledged his existence… did he even matter to her? He was fighting a losing battle or he was never even given a fighting chance at all. Kiyo swallowed, moving out of her way.

“Thank you, Tojo-san. Have a good night.”

“And you as well, master.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's notes: Kirumi really said "Suffer Bitch."


	8. Strangely Quiet

It was apparently Kirumi’s turn to be unnerved. Considering yesterday’s approach Kirumi was on guard for any and all attacks from him. She continued her work like usual, sat in class with her back to Kiyo, and attended to any and all requests asked. However, Kiyo never approached her. 

He’d kept away, making her suspicious of any traps being set or approaches from other students. It was a bit of a surprise, considering how close to breaking he had been. She peeked at him. Rantaro was speaking to him and looking over a sheet of paper, his eyes bored and lazily tracing the contents of it. Angie was messily braiding his hair, her hands quickly moved back and forth between strands which left thin wiry ones to poke out wherever her nimble fingers misplaced them.

Kirumi wondered if Kiyo was attempting to bait her into striking against him. What type of advantage he’d get from that, she was unsure of. Perhaps he’d just exhausted himself and his means and was attempting to recuperate? It was a guessing game when she couldn’t openly analyze him.

Kirumi thought back to their meeting the night before. He’d called her around the time she’d usually be in her room with him, so he was looking to garner a reaction from her rather than having her attention. She tugged on the ring of her glove and thought harder. 

Should he have wanted her to forgive him he wouldn’t have done anything to irritate her. No, Kiyo had proven that with the numerous gifts he’d left to appease her the days before. Perhaps anger had set in? Kirumi shook her head, he almost seemed to be anxiously searching her person for some type of reaction, an immediate one, but not one meant to intentionally end their battle. Judging by the way he’d unconsciously grabbed his hair at one point only to drop it seconds after, Kiyo was rather worried.

Kirumi picked up her pen and stared at her class notes. It was his last day before she forgave him, he seemed to be taking it well, all things considered. 

She half expected him to appear around her at 9 PM and whisk her away, perhaps apologizing or chiding her, or maybe even both. But instead Kaede appeared, inquiring about aid in dusting and polishing her piano. Trailing after the pianist, Kirumi went to help. Hours passed and curfew loomed, so she returned back to her dorm. The click of her heels was incessant, grating on her tired nerves as she cursed her body for acclimating to Kiyo’s set work hour limits. 

Kirumi shut her dorm door. _Tomorrow_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's notes: Kirumom is about to whip out her master ball.


	9. A Bomb Has Dropped

Sunday was the one technical free day provided by Hope's Peak. In truth, class participation was optional, but Kaede did her best to ensure all the class students appeared near daily, much to everybody’s chagrin. 

Kiyo was doing everything he could to remain composed. He had decided to play the waiting game despite nearly forgetting about their battle out of anxiety. Though he was the one who was supposed to be on offense at this point it was clear Kirumi had the next advance. He was to simply wait.

It was inevitable he’d lose, there was truly no question even from the beginning. Pride had been the only factor keeping him from immediately acknowledging that. Having yesterday to himself gave him time to recuperate, though only just enough to keep himself from desperately running to her seeking forgiveness. 

Kiyo had been reading a novel by an old English poet most well known for his star-crossed lovers tale of a tragic couple that somehow had many innuendos thrown in. This one was translated with the title “Macbeth.” The story had many tragic, albeit unnecessary, deaths and he found it intriguing more so for its impact on Western culture, considerably so in light of the author’s advancement of the english language, or rather demonstration of that. Kiyo himself could not read English perfectly, though it was close to being his second language. Thus the novel's original format was lost on him. Still he was tempted to search for studies on the author…

Kiyo stood, unthinkingly peeking through the shelves before moving. He wasn’t sure if Kirumi was working then, but it was simply a precaution. Heavy steps thudded behind him.

“Gokuhara, it’s nice to see you.” he said.

Said man grinned down at Kiyo over a stack of books. “Hello Kiyo! Gonta glad to see you again.” Kiyo couldn’t help but curiously dart his eyes behind Gonta. With his other hand he was pulling the cart Kirumi had the day prior. His shoulders dropped a bit.

“You looking for Tojo, yes?” Kiyo’s eyes shot back to Gonta, who was smiling kindly as he spoke, perhaps in understanding. “Tojo told Gonta to work alone today. Tojo has important job to do.” As he spoke he nearly beamed with pride, perhaps at being trusted by her to do his job alone. Kiyo sensed something relevant about the so-called “important job” to more than just Kirumi’s work. He set down his book.

“Oh? That’s nice. By chance, are you allowed to share what it is?” Kiyo asked as he removed his cap and began to roll up his sleeves, heart sinking. Gonta nodded eagerly, crouching down to speak quietly.

“Tojo gets to clean the student council room!” He whisper shouted in excitement. Kiyo, having already prepared for this scenario, pivoted on his heel and all but sprinted out of the library.

_ Over his dead body _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's notes: Editor added that last line and was nervous about the cheese factor. I told her it's okay, danganronpa readers aren't lactose intolerant.


	10. Using Your Resources Wisely

Kirumi made her way to the student council room with more than the usual air of pride about her and a cart of cleaning supplies in tow. Each step she took ensured her triumphant victory, so much so that she earned more than a few puzzled looks from other students at the conviction in her stride. Quietly, she calmly reigned herself in, not wanting to garner unnecessary attention. She had her title to maintain. The one that had been tarnished by last weekend's… events. It was  _ still  _ near painful to remember what she’d done.

Kirumi made it to the designated room. The door stood out with a majestic royal red sign on it bearing the title of the crew that occupied it. She knocked twice and patiently waited.

Sure enough the door was opened by none other than Murasame, the president. “Right on time, Tojo.” He greeted her with a welcoming smile and stepped back to allow her entrance. “We just finished up our meeting, we’re just packing up. Don’t worry, we’ll be out of your hair in a moment.”

Kirumi shook her head. “There is no need to rush, Murasame. Please, take your time.” Despite her underlying motive she still carefully inspected the area’s current state. Five members were still present, three being the members she’d seen at the party, but she was more concerned with the mess first. The tables were organized to imitate the shape of an open square, with numerous stacks of paper--reports, she supposed--and a trash can overflowing with crumpled papers. She noted with an amused smile that a few snack wrappers peeked out from the carnage. On one particular desk there was a rather large, dark puddle that spilled over the desk onto the floor. 

Kirumi hurriedly grabbed her mop and bucket, as well as a rag and bottle of cleaning spray.

“Oh, hey. Nice to run into you again.” 

She looked over to see Yoko (she remembered this time) from the party approaching. “Sorry about the ink, my pen exploded because  _ somebody _ thought it would be funny. We were just about to clean it.” He spoke as he held up a roll of paper towels, jerking his head over at the red haired boy, Ichino, with an annoyed look when he mentioned “somebody.” On his shirt was a rather large black stain that had been smeared from an attempt to wipe it away. She nearly smiled, aware that her plan was perfectly coming to fruition without her lifting a finger, and not so much at the unnecessary mess done in the name of a prank.

Ichino moved over to the two, Nishizawa following behind him. “I mean it  _ was _ funny.” Ichino spoke with a grin, only to cough when Nishizawa nudged him with a disapproving frown. “Still, sorry about the mess. I can help you clean it.”

Tojo had already begun cleaning the table by then, discarding the papers before dipping the rag into the clean water of the mop bucket. “That won’t be necessary. Though, I do ask that you refrain from such actions in the future.” She put on her best stern face and disapproving frown. Ichino looked down, rubbing at the back of his neck in discomfort.

“Yes, ma’am.” He slinked away, having the decency to be ashamed of his actions. Nishizawa shook her head. “I’m sorry for him. I’ll try and make sure our- uh, his next prank doesn’t make such a mess.” Despite her slip of the tongue Kirumi was glad to hear her words, knowing the two were getting along and her thoughts of never having to worry about Nishizawa were confirmed.

“Alright, thank you.” Nishizawa grabbed one of the stacks of paper and left the room. 

“Ryota!” Yoko had called out to the last member in the room other than him. A short boy with a chopped bowl cut and a few stuffed animals on his person looked up from his GameCube. “You can go on without me. I’ve got to finish up these last papers…”

“Are you sure?” The reply was unsure, wavering slightly.

“Yeah, we can meet up another time. It’ll take a bit of time anyway, don’t worry.” Yoko waved him away, though Ryota was clearly hesitant in abandoning his friend. Kirumi nodded to herself as she sprayed disinfectant on the table where the puddle had previously been. It seemed half of her job had been completed for her, with Yoko staying of his own volition. 

Kirumi moved to take out the trash and spoke. “I take it you don’t usually stay this late?” He’d never loitered for very long, though he usually left last, fiddling with items and throwing her glances. She was no fool and was painfully aware of the fact he had a bit of interest in her. Usually, Kirumi would make it very clear she wasn’t interested in any of her employers. She hadn’t quite acknowledged him though, considering the fact the two rarely shared more than a wave or short greeting, but today he served a  _ special _ purpose. Not to mention she’d kill two birds with one stone by sending him a clear message. 

Yoko sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Well I don’t usually have my pen explode on me, so no, I don’t.” He was looking over some papers, though he wasn’t quite focused given how quickly his eyes darted between the pages and her. Kirumi chuckled to herself as she finished sweeping the floor.

She wiped down the desks as her final act in cleaning the room. Yoko had managed to get through most of his papers and rose to follow her as she moved to her cart, resting next to the wall. 

“You’re very efficient.” He noted as she put her things up.

“As are you, though that is most likely why you are on the student council.” Kirumi said, turning to look at him. 

_ When would he get there? _

__ Her eyes locked onto his stained shirt.  _ Perfect. _ “If you would like, I can wash your shirt and rid it of that stain.” Yoko looked down then back up at her, a blush tinging his cheeks. “Well-.”

With a bang that nearly rattled the sturdy door frame, the door to the student council room slammed open. Kirumi didn’t bother turning around as she failed to hide her satisfied smile. 

_ There _ he was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editor's Notes: disapproving mom look.jpg has entered the chat. This whole story is Kirumi just silently judging the shit out of everyone.


	11. Surrender

Yoko stepped back instinctively as Kiyo strode forward after bursting into the room. “It appears I’d falsely assumed you had a single ounce of sense in your pathetic brain.” His hand slammed against the wall in front of Kirumi, separating her from the student council member.” Kirumi is  _ my _ partner, yet you keep bothering her.”

Kirumi cleared her throat. “It’d be best if you left, Yoko. Have a good evening.” Yoko wasn’t visible to her, but she heard his pause before he turned to gather his things. She didn’t spare him a glance as he rushed out of the room, a few papers flying from his arms, nor did she turn when the door slammed shut.

Kiyo’s body was slightly heaving as his lungs struggled to expand and retract fast enough to keep up with his heart hammering in his chest. He took a moment to compose himself, breathing deeply and straightening up from his slightly hunched form. He turned to face the source of his torment for the past seven days. She was smirking up at him, a rare show of pride for her. 

Kirumi stared, waiting for his next move. She wondered if he’d turn his anger onto her due to pent up frustration. Kiyo wasn’t prone to outbursts, but considering his entrance and the very pained look he had when they’d interacted previously she supposed his buttons had been thoroughly mashed. The thought made her lips twitch upward, as she already knew the outcome to any action he’d take.

Kiyo took another deep breath before reaching out to gently cup her face in his hands. “Kirumi, I am _truly_ and _genuinely_ sorry. I deeply and sincerely regret my actions, now please,  _ please _ , speak to me, my love. I beg of you, please.” His eyes watered, not from sadness but from the intense feelings he’d experienced in the last few days. He was thoroughly spent in all he could do to win. This was his last option.

Kirumi lifted a hand up to cover one of his, satisfied with the integrity of his confession, and admittedly relieved that their little game would be ending. 

“I win.” She whispered. 

Kiyo leaned down, his free hand reaching for his mask. She instinctively shut her eyes, not wanting to intrude. “It’s alright, dear.” His voice was close.

Kiyo’s heart raced as he waited for her reaction. Eyes opening as she looked up at him. He didn’t explain the lipstick. Evidently, his lack of one told her all she needed, as she smiled and placed her hands on his cheeks before pressing her lips to his.

That wasn’t their first kiss, far from it. Their first kiss was delicate, explorative with a few pecks and feather light presses from Kirumi, who’s eyes were covered, and Kiyo, who hadn’t shared a meaningful kiss with another for years. No, this was charged as both shared their pent up feelings: desperation, anxiety, embarrassment, longing, the way they did best: without words. 

Kiyo smiled into the kiss, feeling her lips quirk up as well. Oh yes, she was decisively the victor, but that was precisely what made Kiyo victorious in his efforts. They broke their kiss and took a moment to process their conversation.

An awkward cough sounded from behind them. 

“Um.” 

Kirumi shielded Kiyo’s face with her hands, giving him time to pull it up and hide the smudged lipstick. They turned to see Sarou awkwardly looking away from them. “Tojo, I need the mop and bucket.” Face furiously flushing, Kirumi gave him them as fast as possible, ushering him out of the room.

Kiyo pulled her gloves from his pocket. Kirumi returned and he chuckled a bit at the red smeared along her mouth. She shot him a look of confusion but was immediately distracted by her missing clothing in his hands. He watched as she pulled them on with a steady hand and gently smoothed the fabric into place.

Kirumi froze when he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Whatever was that for?”

He smiled at her and said, “ To the victor go the spoils.” Kirumi shook her head. “I’d rather have my shoes back, if it’s all the same to you.”  Kiyo raised his shoulders in a mock shrug, teasing amusement dancing in his voice.  “Ah, those didn’t quite fit in my pocket.”

Kirumi hummed to herself, packing up the last of her cleaning supplies.

“I suppose you’ll have to bring them to my dorm tonight.” She spoke, knowing he’d picked up on her subtle hint. 

“Of course, I’ll be sure they’re ready with your favorite tea, my dear.”

And just as if nothing had happened, the pair strolled out of the room, arms linked and a shared tranquility between them. It wasn’t until Kirumi made it to her dorm at 9 PM sharp that Kiyo got his earful about the lipstick stains he left on her person. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editor's Notes: "KIRUMI TOJO, HOLY FUCK." -Kiyo 2020. Also Kiyo: "mydearpleaseforgivemeformymostgrievouschoiceinactionsifyouwouldbesokindastogracemewithyourpresenceiwouldbemostappreciativeofit."  
> \- "My hero." -Kirumi 2020. Also Kirumi: Ah yes. Me. The guy I'm shamelessly flirting with. And my furious boyfriend who has all but kicked down the door.  
> -mfw you realize the guy who held you at katanapoint made you yack a bunch of petals for his girl and this is how you're thanked. really? right in front of my mop and bucket?

**Author's Note:**

> Credits to @Deltanox (they write for this ship too ^-^) for helping me edit this and adding some really cute/memorable moments to the story! They also greatly improved my sentence and word variation. I had so much fun distracting you while we were editing! Many a meme were shared. Hope you guys enjoyed it <3


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